


Ebb Tide

by ReaderJane



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-18
Updated: 2011-10-18
Packaged: 2017-10-25 02:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaderJane/pseuds/ReaderJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Willow and Spike regroup after Dirty Girls</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ebb Tide

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: BtVS S7, after Dirty Girls  
> Written for the sb_fag_ends prompt, "The Witching Time of Night"  
> Disclaimer: still not mine, alas

Willow patted her pocket, making sure her keys were there as she pulled the front door closed behind her. It had been dark for hours, and the terrorized Potentials had finally settled down. Dawn was making hot chocolate for everyone. Andrew was being his most annoying, giving the girls someone to snap at. Sometimes Willow wondered whether there was method in Andrew's dorkiness.

She gasped as an orange spark flew over the porch rail, but relaxed when she recognized it for Spike's cigarette butt. Buffy wouldn't let him smoke in the house.

His voice rumbled, " 'Tis now the very witching time of night, when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out contagion to this world."

"Watch it, Buster. I'll witching your ass." Willow wondered how much was gone from the flask Spike kept in his jacket.

"Sorry, Wills." His voice was warm with a smile, his pronunciation just careful enough to confirm Willow's suspicion.

"Any sign of Buffy yet?"

A long jet of smoke blew through the streetlight's beam. "Not yet." Spike's face was outlined for a moment as he cupped his hand around a new-lit match.

"I'm going to the hospital to see how Xander's doing. Will you watch things here?"

"Yeah."

Willow made for the stairs, but her hand caught around the pillar as if to hold her back. She said, keeping her face turned away, "I don't know what to say to him. Xander. His eye -- God, his eye. That's..."

Spike waited behind her, the porch swing clicking quietly on its chains.

"That's something you can't hide, y'know? Like, a scar under your shirt, or a missing toe inside your shoe. What if he's self-conscious? What if I'm self-conscious? What do I say to him?"

"Think it's more you being there that matters."

"Yeah, I guess. Spike... that time at the factory." She stole a quick glance over her shoulder, then looked away again. "When you said you'd shove a bottle through my face. Would you really have done that?"

"Back then? Sure." Spike took another drag. "I've done worse. You know I have." He waited a moment. "So have you."

Willow swallowed. "I know." She turned back toward the house and hitched herself up to sit on the porch railing. "Sometimes I wonder, how do we know we're still the good guys? When we can do such terrible things."

Spike stood up and walked into the moonlight. "'M not a white hat, Wills. I could go another hundred years and never pile up good deeds enough to balance all the wrong I've done. I only know whose side I'm on."

"I'm not sure we'll live another week," Willow whispered, then caught herself. "Don't tell Buffy I said that."

Spike shook his head. "Mum's the word." He took another drag. "I'll last as long as Buffy does. And if she falls, I'll go out ending the one that kills her."

"We're not very motivational, are we? Good thing the Potentials can't hear us."

Spike chuckled. He pulled the flask from his duster and held it out to Willow, offering.

"Not me. I gotta drive to the hospital."

"One sip won't make you DUI," he scoffed. He tipped the flask, its steel glinting in the streetlight.

Willow started to reply, but at that moment Spike's head snapped around. She didn't have to look to know what it was. She'd seen him do the compass thing often enough. Buffy's form appeared at the end of the sidewalk, striding resolutely toward them.

"Arise, fair sun," Spike murmured, all his attention focused on the Slayer. "And kill the envious moon, who is already pale with grief that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she."

"Hey," Willow shook her finger, admonishing. "Witching hour!"

Spike snuck her a glance, his face alight with mischief. Willow grinned and trudged down the stairs, passing Buffy on her way to the house. She didn't know how many more apocalypses she could handle. All she was certain of was that she'd face them with her friends by her side.


End file.
